


who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals

by niika



Category: Dalton Academy Series, Daltonfic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niika/pseuds/niika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love with Julian is a slow, blindsiding thing that catches Logan out of nowhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals

Falling in love with Julian is a slow, blindsiding thing that catches Logan out of nowhere.

It's dots on a map with years connecting the lines that crisscross in and out of Logan's ribs, stitching across the seams with fragments of smiles like cuts and hazel eyes as bright as oil fires.

And then, suddenly, it's an epiphany. Shattered glass. Crashing into him, unstoppable and inevitable and echoing. ****

Logan catches Julian's wrist as the other boy is laughing in resignation at the brownies they just burned, saying _fuck, we should never try to bake anything ever again, let's just go to the store the next time you get a random chocolate craving at midnight. Jesus christ, how does that even happen?_  and the smell of rising yeast is filling up Logan's lungs, weighing on his tongue as he clutches Julian's hand, thumb digging into the spot between two knuckles.

_Julian._

_I love you._

The words trip past his lips like bullets. A gun going off. Load a round into the chamber  _(I)_ , pull the trigger  _(love),_  reload  _(you)._

An intake of breath and Julian's expression is unchanged, another breath and it's unhinged, and he feels as if the floorboards are trembling underneath him, shaking in time to his hands.

A moment passes and the silence is deafening now, filling up Julian's mouth like water before he steels himself, chases after the ragged pieces that are escaping him and claws them back into his ribcage, tripping the lock and throwing away the key because his palms are starting to sweat and he feels like he’s losing his fucking mind, this is too much. Too much. There’s too much happening right now and he has to keep it out of this place, this moment; he  _has_  to.

 _Jules,_  Logan chokes, _look at me. Please._

Logan lets go of Julian's wrist, the growing smell of smoke choking his pulse and he's trying to clamp down the panic in his chest, a bird beating breakneck against a window, _I'm sorry, please look at me._

Julian shakes his head, averting his gaze, face pale as death as he takes a breath, a deep and shuddering breath, and it's barely a whisper, nearly hysterical, _Logan, you fucking idiot, you're so- you're so fucking stupid-_

It happens out of nowhere: lips on Logan's, teeth catching and the taste of blood, copper pennies in their mouths, bitter and metallic, but it's okay. They don’t mind. They can still taste each other underneath all the smoke and red, through blood and bone and skin.

And it's only a moment, but they are what they are at their most basic level, atoms and metals and molecules, their own periodic table, like when they're screaming at each other in frustration, in fear, when everything between them is fire-hot and exasperated, when they're snarling and lightning-quick and slamming past each other to storm out of the room blind and angry, so fucking angry

How did they get here?

Eyes glittering like broken glass candles and lips red, teeth razor shrapnel, kisses cutting into each other like fingers pushing into an open wound.

Logan talks like maybe he's praying.  _Julian. I'm sorry. I love you._

Then the room becomes their own personal graveyard because they're both trying to figure out what to say when it seems like all they've ever really said is goodbye.

They weren't made for goodbyes.

And there is nothing to say.

So Julian begins to talk, even though he sounds like he's losing his voice, like it's been choked out of him. Random, nonsensical things.

-

It’s a quiet night and they both feel too old as the minutes tick by past twelve. None of this is enough but it’s something.

-

_That time when the coffee machine broke and you, me and Derek skipped class to go buy a new one, when I stole one of your hoodies because it had fleece lining and you retaliated by hiding my favorite pair of sunglasses (you asshole), don't you remember when we were doing laundry and accidentally put red socks in with your white dress shirt, hey, did you know that I still have that hoodie, Lo, did you know?_

They're sitting on the floor now, backs against the counter. Logan rubs a thumb along Julian's bottom lip to wipe off the stain of blood that remains there and Julian goes quiet.

 _I know, of course I know,_  Logan says because he does, because he didn't even want the hoodie back in the first place.

It feels like the world has collapsed and they’re left over, difficult, problematic rubble.

Julian looks at Logan. This isn’t how their conversations usually go.

 _I don’t mind_ , Logan admits slowly, hesitant, unsure of how much he’s allowed to say and bouncing his foot anxiously.  _I always thought it looked better on you, to be honest._

Julian seems startled by the confession. He is. _Didn’t think I’d live to see the day that Logan Wright directly compliments me, huh,_  he attempts a laugh, though the sound ends up falling hard from his lips and landing on the floor with a heavy thud because they’re trying so hard to go back to the way they were, or maybe they’re not, maybe this is them trying to move forward, either way; they’re so fucked up it's motherfucking hysterical. 

A frenetic bubble of laughter makes its way up Julian’s throat and tickles past his lips.

 _God, we’re a mess,_  Logan huffs in agreement, in a wry sort of amusement, because lately everything seems to fall into place crookedly and his head throbs as if he hasn’t eaten in days.

Julian says nothing, just stares at their hands, next to each other on the floor.

 _Is this working?_  Logan asks after a few minutes of solid silence.

Julian slides a hand through his hair, pushes it out of his face, and for a second Logan feels a sharp edge of panic, what if Julian says no, packs his bags and leaves for good and that’s it, disappears like vapor.

 _Who the hell knows_ , Julian answers, blunt, sudden, like the world can go fuck itself because he’s too tired to deal with it’s shit anymore, and the side of his mouth curls up a little bit when Logan turns his hand palm-up on the floor, an offer.

He takes it.


End file.
